Unto the Breach, Dear Friends
by Follow-ur-Shadow
Summary: Tag for Breach
1. Breach

**Unto the Breach, Dear Friends **

**Category**: Romance/Angst

**Pairing**: Magnus/Will

**Summary**: Tag for Breech

**Warnings**: Spoilers for Breech!

**Disclaimer**: Own nadda, zip, zilch...

**Authors Notes**: A little follow up to the concern Will showed at the end of the ep :P

* * *

He finds her on the roof, sat propped up against the old foundations and he knows from watching that her mind is nowhere near here. There's worry pressed in the lines of her face, tension in every jarred rise of her chest and he would feel nervous at the underlying meaning if he wasn't completely preoccupied with her fragile state.

She'd taken it hard today, been beaten senseless and he's still struggling to comprehend how it happened in a matter of seconds relative to outside time. The guilt he's feeling -_he should have been there_- is hard to place because there are so little windows where he could have changed his actions.

The only tangible comfort he has is that she's here now, quite a bit worse for wear, but in the very least... _alive_.

"_Hey_-" he drops a light hand to rest over her shoulder, "you okay?"

She takes a moment, followed by a slow breath before she finally turns her gaze up to acknowledge him. He doesn't like it. Her eye's are glassy, struggling to find comprehension in his presence and it screams that she shouldn't be up here alone but in bed resting.

"Magnus-" he presses her name softy whilst lowing himself to sit beside her.

To her credit she manages to pull together enough to give him a light reassuring smile. "My apologies Will, I didn't hear you approaching."

The words are slurred slightly, tainted with exhaustion and he tries not to wince as she adjusts against the pylon. Fresh bruises have already begun forming across her pale skin, a harsh reminder that despite her longevity she is just as vulnerable as the rest of them, and he shudders to think about the damage he can't see.

He wants to know what happened, who the man in the infirmary is and why she's so adamant to keep him alive but the questions stay poised on his tongue.

Now isn't the time.

Instead he shifts a little closer, edging the tousled hair back from the large graze covering her forehead. The strands are still damp as he tucks them behind her ear, letting his fingers linger for a moment longer than necessary. He wants to reassure her, swear that whatever is coming they'll handle it together but he's too captivated by her stunning gaze to form the words.

She sees the intention though, reading the comfort in his eyes and nudges the hesitant arm behind her. He's instantly compliant, shifting so her head can rest against his shoulder. He knows the action means she really must be exhausted but rather than move he grants her the time to re-group.

"There is a lot we need to discuss-" she admits quietly, silently dreading the conversation where she has to explain the history she shares with Adam. It's not something she's proud of. She's lived with the guilt and regret for over a century but justifying herself hadn't worked then, it wouldn't now.

"You're right-" he lifts a hand smoothing down the hair that's caught his words, "but when you're feeling up to it, not tonight."

She lets out a grateful breath in response, closing her eyes tiredly against his shoulder. She can't remember the last time she's been this badly injured which instinct tells her is a blessing. There's been enough past emotions trudged up for one day.

"Thank you Will-" she murmurs softly, fanning her fingers over his arm in an effort to sit up but he stops the movement taking her wrist lightly to keep them from separating.

"I'm sorry I couldn't... _wasn't_ there-" he amends, knowing there is enough difference between the two to justify an apology. "I know it mightn't have changed anything but I hate that you were alone."

She's touched by the sincerity and concern lacing his voice even though neither are necessary. In all honesty she's glad he escaped the experience. Knowing he was safe, out of harms way had given her the focus to think clearly and strategically over Adams advances.

"You needn't be sorry, I assure you-" she purses her lips together in a warn smile, "your presence now is much more appreciated."

"I'm just, glad you're okay..." he holds the moment with a tentative breath.

Maybe he's giving too much away but she doesn't release his gaze and it prompts him to inch forward even though he's half expecting her to reject the advance. Needless to say he's more than a little surprised when she meets him halfway, their lips brushing together in the most amazing kiss he's ever experienced. So light and yet it sends his heart pounding fast and hard into his rib cage.

He's enamoured with the sensation to the point where he nearly misses her slight hiss as the position takes its toll on her injured body and he jerks back, concern written over his face, "_god_, I'm sorry... I didn't hurt you did I?"

She's amused at the insinuation but can tell he's being genuine and shakes her head. "It's just a few cracked ribs, hardly an injury you can take credit for."

"You should be in bed-" he admonishes, trying his best to sound stern because regardless of how much he wants to continue what they're doing she's clearly in no condition.

"Is that an invitation?" Her lips twist into a smirk, reading the seriousness behind his gaze but not willing to succumb to it quite yet.

"Magnus..." the warning dies in a smile and he hangs his head letting out a sigh. It isn't much but it's the first time he's felt at ease since the day began and it's a feeling he wants to hold on to. "Bed, now-" he urges, helping her to stand.

While she's adamant she can make the journey without assistance he keeps a hand against the small of her back anyway. She doesn't protest and he allows a small smile safe in the knowledge she really does trust him enough to let down her walls, even if it's only on a rare occasion.

_Yes_.

He was _definitely _feeling more at ease now.


	2. Vigilante

**AN: **_Okay, so I didn't really intend for this to be a multi-chapter story but I forgot to check complete and the reviews inspired me! I was thinking of maybe continuing it as a compilation of tag/episode musings, albeit a little off canon. This particular one I envisioned taking place instead of the conversation they had in the hall... _

* * *

OO

* * *

The door shuts with an audible click and he brings his gaze around, meeting her back with a heavy sigh. They've been riding each other all day not because they're angry with one and other but because fear has a strange way of masking itself in uncontrolled, fundamentally flawed outbursts.

He wants to apologise before she leaves but fixing the rise in tension is no longer as simple as taking back a few words. There's more in play, more at stake... things he knew would factor in the moment he overruled her and agreed Adam should see the map.

"_Magnus_-"

"You had no right to encourage Nikola's juvenile antics, much less partake in them-" her hand finds the edge of the desk loudly and she winces, relieved he won't see the expression.

It's not the pain she's worried about. Her whole life has been built around appearing strong, from growing up in what was traditionally a man's society to heading the Sanctuary network. If she's going to meet her end then it should be from a befitting action not lying weak and incapable on a white starch bed.

"Please Will-" already she can feel the pull of exhaustion, the tight ache that her longevity usually subsides and she doesn't have the strength to fight him on the matter. 'We can discuss this later. For now, if you don't mind, I'd like a few moments alone."

Instead of heeding the request he steps forward cautiously, testing her reaction to the movement.

There isn't one.

Either she's too tired to challenge him or deep down she secretly desires the comfort. It doesn't matter. Either way he isn't prepared to leave because she might be capable of facing this herself but _he_ isn't.

"_Magnus_..." he makes it the rest of the way, curling a loose a hand over her tense shoulder.

She still wont acknowledge him. Her eyes are fixed sternly on the hard wood and whatever she sees there is lost to him, buried in a place she keeps hidden from the world but the defence doesn't deter him. Lightly, he trails his fingers down her arm ceasing the decent as they lace with hers.

Surprise is evident as her gaze snaps up but he doesn't comment, gently pulling her away from the desk instead.

He's not expecting her to follow so compliantly but he doesn't question the surrender as he sits her down on the couch, smoothing out the confused crinkle in her brow. She sighs at the contact and he reaches behind her pulling down the hairy Afghan. He knows her tremors aren't due to the cold but the gesture comes out of instinct and he tugs the two ends tightly at her front.

She takes them with a delicate grasp and he pushes himself up to the space beside her. He's not usually so direct, always giving her ample space to plough through her emotions but given present company and the rush to find answers he knows they mightn't get another opportunity to talk things through.

"You're right, I have only known you for three years-" he starts, shifting his gaze back to her with a deep breath. She's waiting patiently and he brings the words round with ease,"but whatever happened before then, whoever you were... I know you _now._ I know that your first instinct is to shut everybody out and maybe Druitt and Tesla let you get away with that in the past but I won't."

The tone is determined but laced with concern and her eye's sting from the nostalgia it evokes. So often James would see through her anger, stand up to the smokescreen and test her boundaries. He was the only one of the five she'd ever truly confided in after John's turn and when she allows herself, she can see so much of her dear friend in the man beside her.

"I'm sorry if I appeared abrasive-" she admits quietly, "I never intended to belittle our relationship."

"I know..." He turns his body in line with hers, reaching a hand over her knee. It's already complicated between them, more so now that Druitt has reappeared, but he's willing to sacrifice the need to know where they stand if it means taking the pressure off her.

"I'm here, in whatever capacity you need and I understand if that's only as a friend."

Her eyes close in gratitude and it takes a considerable amount of effort to prise them back open. When she does, she finds his tentative gaze filled with concern. Maybe she can't give him what he deserves, the emotional depth he's looking for but she can swallow enough pride to accept his comfort.

Sliding down, she breathes out slowly as her head settles against his thigh.

His fingers tangle through her hair in response, brushing gentle strokes in a soothing rhythm. There's no evidence in his posture, no sign to indicate the fact he's terrified beyond reason. For her sake he has to remain strong and the only reprieve he allows is a distracted glance towards the ceiling,

It works, easing the burn behind his eyes as her breathing grows laboured with exhaustion. He doesn't want to lose her... _can't_ lose her and the resolve is there, fuelling his forced confidence. "It's gonna be okay-" he whispers softly, surprised as her fingers curl loosely around his own.

He knows she won't rest for long, certainly not long enough. With the location of the keystone at hand and her reluctance to let anyone else go after it they're already wasting time... but she needs this.

And for all it's worth, he needs it too.


End file.
